


Of Vampires and Winchesters

by SoulSurvivor_36



Series: The Lives We Make for Ourselves [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 13:08:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6611758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulSurvivor_36/pseuds/SoulSurvivor_36
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being snatched by a nest of vamps, Delilah meets the Winchester brothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Vampires and Winchesters

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I wrote for an eventual series with Delilah McAllister as the main protagonist as she interacts with the lives of the Winchesters. It's set within the 9th season and will follow the events into season 10 eventually, although for this first instalment there are no spoilers or anything.
> 
> I appreciate any feedback you'd like to give me as this is my first real forray into the world of fan fiction and I hope to improve as I continue writing.

Of Vampires and Winchesters

 

The day had started out so normally.  Another day, another dollar.  Delilah got up, went to work and did some mindless, menial tasks that completely failed to use any of the skills and knowledge she acquired in her undergrad degree.  Who cares if you did a double major in history and classic languages in the age of the internet and social media where you can share your thoughts, feelings and opinions faster than the speed of your spell checker? She had lunch with some of the women from her office, discussing such world changing topics as nail polish colour and whether Chris or Liam was the hotter Hemsworth, all the while nibbling away at her tasteless salad.  She had fiddled around on her phone, drifting to and from the chatter, and had come across an article about some animal attacks. A couple of people in a town not all that far away had been found with their throats ripped out.  She had tried to bring it up with her lunch company, but they just told her she was being gross, and please not while they were eating.

She had returned to work afterward and spent the afternoon doodling and daydreaming because she had managed once again to clear off everything on her ridiculously unchallenging to-do list.  Then, as she was heading back home, things took a left turn at weird and went straight on to unbelievable.

The traffic out of Topeka had been uncharacteristically pleasant for once as Delilah cruised down i-70, cheerfully tapping out the rhythm to Simple Man on the steering wheel and even singing along to the chorus.  As she was driving down Auburn road, she saw a lone figure trudging along the side.  The girl was maybe 16 or 17 and showed signs of exhaustion as she slowly put one foot in front of the other.  Delilah hadn't noticed any cars on the side of the road, and briefly wondered where she had come from. Knowing that they were miles away from any real civilization, and seeing no cars ahead or behind her, she decided to pull up and offer the poor girl a ride to town.

She slowed down and rolled down her window.

“Hey there!  Need a lift?”

“Oh my God yes, you are a life saver!” she answered right away.

Delilah unlocked the doors and the girl plopped herself down into the passenger’s seat.

“I’ve been walking for like an hour.  The only creeps who pulled up were these college guys who kept saying rude things to me.  I’m so not into getting raped thank you!”

Delilah laughed, “Well you’re perfectly safe with me.  Where are you headed?”

“I have a friend who lives just outside of town if you don’t mind dropping me off.  It’s not too far.  You turn onto 69th,” the girl answered looking around the inside of the car.

“Which one is 69th?” asked Delilah, “Is it the one just before the lake?”

“That’s the one.  My friend lives a couple miles down that way,” the girl answered cheerfully.

Delilah glanced at the girl quickly.  She had blond hair down to her shoulders. She had on dark tinted sunglasses that covered half her face even though the sun was barely shining from behind some low clouds.  She was wearing a short jean jacket over a cropped top and skinny jeans.  She had a small backpack style purse that she held on her lap and chipped blue nail polish. She turned her eyes back to the road.

“I didn’t think there were any houses on 69th, isn’t it mostly abandoned farmland?” Delilah asked casually.

“I know right?  But Nick’s parents bought this place out there and fixed it up and stuff.  I guess it’s cheaper that way if you’re handy enough. Nick’s my friend’s name by the way,” said the girl.  She radiated sweetness and innocence.

“Yeah, I figured it was,” Delilah smiled, forgetting her momentary uncertainty thanks to the girl’s easy manner.

They drove on in silence for a good ten minutes before coming up on 69th St.  Delilah turned up the long narrow road lined on both sides with empty fields and the occasional grove of trees.  The sun was setting low behind the trees and Delilah switched on her headlights.  They passed a few dilapidated barns with sagging roofs and broken windows and her uneasy feeling came back. Another ten minutes passed and the light was nearly all gone from the evening sky and she started to worry about this deserted road in the middle of nowhere.  She kept glancing at the now silent girl sitting in the darkening passenger’s seat and worried that she couldn’t read her facial expression and that she didn’t know her name.

Suddenly, the girl pointed out to a narrow lane turning up into one of the open fields.  Barely visible in the growing darkness, Delilah saw a house rise up from the end of the lane.  There were no lights on inside, but as the headlights swept across the front porch, she could see broken boards and a shutter falling off its hinges like something out of a horror movie.  Definitely feeling the prickle of unease, Delilah turned to the girl to ask her if there was anywhere else she could take her, because she didn’t feel comfortable leaving her in this place, especially since there seemed to be no one home.

She never got a word out though because that was when everything went black.

 

She slowly came to her senses a little later and found herself lying on a bare wooden floor, the boards all rough and splintered and covered in dark stains.  Her head was pounding as she looked around the dimly lit room and she was aware of some strange noises coming from below.  Odd grunts and dull thumps were making their way to her as she slowly got to her feet.  Her head throbbed and her vision went blurry as the room around her spun sickeningly.  Delilah put her hand against the wall to steady herself and put her right hand to her head.  She felt something sticky and when she looked down at her fingers, she saw they were stained with flecks of congealing blood. “That little bitch knocked me out!” she uttered in disbelief.  Feeling steadier, she wandered out of the room and headed for the stairs.

The noises were getting louder and she could see that the dim light was coming from kerosene lamps set on the ground in various places.  There was no furniture in the house only bare walls and broken windows.  There was a wall separating two sections of the ground floor and she inched her way along it keeping an eye open for an exit.  The yells, thumps and scuffles got louder. A high pitched shrill of a laugh rang out as something large slammed against the other side of the wall.  Delilah heard someone call out “Sam!” with a deep growling voice. There was a grunt and a low growl that turned into a battle cry as the sound of knuckle slamming into flesh sounded again.

Delilah spotted a door just beyond the opening in the wall.  Maybe if she ran for it, she could get out and into her car before they came after her.  She had no idea what she had gotten herself tangled into, maybe a prostitution ring or slave trade, maybe the girl was a decoy to lure in unsuspecting victims to be what… Raped? Killed? Kidnapped?  It all sounded outrageous to her.

Delilah took a deep breath and looked around the edge of the wall to see if the coast was clear to make a run for it.  Her brain could barely register what she saw.  In one corner of the room, the source of the fighting noises became clear. There were two of them attacking a giant of a man with his back to the wall who was putting up quite the fight punching and kicking whenever they got close.  On the other side of the room, by the windows, there was a girl Delilah barely recognized as the hitchhiker from earlier, who was moving in on another man wearing a dark blue jacket.  She kept jeering at the man with a feral snarl on her face as she moved closer to him.  The man seemed to be fending her off with a machete in his hand.  Something was bothering Delilah about the girl though, something not quite right.

Delilah looked back to the two others attacking the tall man, they were snarling too. One of them reached out and swiped at the man against the wall, a large bloody gash appeared on his neck where the attacker’s hand scratched him deeper than it should have been able to.  The man cried out in a rage and swiped back at them with a short serrated blade which connected with one attacker’s arm and then was buried in the gut of a second before it was knocked out of his hand and fell to the floor without even slowing down the attackers.  Delilah glanced down, all thoughts of running away forgotten as she froze in horror at the mess she saw there.  There was another body lying on the ground still bleeding from the truncated neck where the man had been beheaded.  Away from the body but close to where she was standing she spotted the head.  The face was tilted upwards and frozen in a terrible snarl, and finally Delilah could see what was nagging her.  His mouth wasn’t quite right.  Sticking out at crooked angles were a set of needle sharp teeth reaching down and over regular looking teeth.  What the Hell?  She looked up again and saw the same strange second set of teeth on the two attacking men and on the girl as well.

The cornered man had managed to break free and put some space between himself and the creatures Delilah was suspecting weren’t human even if her mind reeled at the possibility. Delilah retreated behind the wall again terrified of being seen by them, however when she heard a sick, squelching noise and another loud crash, she couldn’t stop herself from looking again.

The man in the blue jacket had gotten away from the girl and was now standing in the middle of the room, at his feet lay a second beheaded body.  The tall man seemed to have disappeared.  Blue Jacket was standing with his broad back to her and facing the remaining two attackers who had backed off and were eyeing the man wearily. “C’mon!” he yelled at them with a guttural growl in his voice.  The remaining male creature rushed forward, but the man was expecting it and easily side stepped hacking off the creature’s head in a splash of blood as he ran by.  Delilah stifled a cry of horror as the momentum brought the headless body crashing down at her feet.  The man in the blue coat turned around at the noise and glared at her with piercing green eyes, assessing whether she was a threat.  Something twisted in her gut as his eyes locked on hers and took her breath away.  His moment of inattention gave an opening to the girl who suddenly charged at him.  “Watch out!” Delilah heard an alarmed voice from a hidden corner of the room.

The man turned around half a second too slowly and the girl knocked into him, tackling him to the ground and sending his machete flying.  She straddled him, holding him down by the throat and baring her inhuman teeth once more.  Though the man struggled, the girl had him in a vice grip and his face was quickly turning red.  Delilah only had a split second to react.  She charged into the room, grabbed the machete off of the floor and, without slowing down to think, lifted the bloody blade with both hands and hacked off the creature’s head.

Delilah stood there panting as the man wrestled the headless corpse from on top of him.  All she could look at was the sightless gaze of the girl she gave a ride to earlier, the girl with the inhuman teeth.  The green-eyed man carefully stood up, never taking his eyes off Delilah.  He approached her like she could bite him any second.  “Sssh, whoa there,” he crooned as he approached her calmly, holding out his empty hands and looking at her straight in the eyes.  His green eyes were almost hypnotic as he stepped closer and Delilah felt her tummy flip again, like in free fall at a fair ride. He reached for the machete and Delilah, still panting, let him take it from her, her hand dropping limply to her side, now relieved of the burden of the blade.

From the previously hidden corner of the room, Delilah heard a groan as the big man slowly got to his feet holding his head.  “You alright, Sam?” asked the man in the blue jacket, now wiping the blood off the machete by using the shirt of one of the beheaded creatures on the ground.

“Yeah, never better Dean,” he groaned as he wiped at the blood trickling down his neck from the earlier cut, “Check her, I’ll have a look around see if we missed any vamps.”

Delilah’s eyes widened, he couldn’t possibly mean what he said… Vamps?  The green-eyed man, Dean, moved back towards her sliding the machete into a holster on his hip.

“Hey, I’m Dean Winchester, are you ok?”  Delilah felt herself nod slowly, but her brain was torn between trying to process the idea that maybe the things she read about in her horror novels might actually be real and escaping from all the horror by blocking it out.  It didn’t help that the man called Dean Winchester was standing so close and the world was feeling fuzzier because of it.

Dean put his hand on her shoulder and turned her towards him a little, facing the dim light from a kerosene lamp.  He looked into her eyes, and she nearly forgot to breathe.  His eyes lingered momentarily on something at her temple, then he lifted her chin and checked her neck.  Finally, he pulled down her chin, opening her mouth, and peaked inside.  His calloused fingers quickly pushed up her lip, but before she could shake him off he had already taken a step back.

“Sorry about that, I had to make sure they didn’t turn you.  That looks like it hurt.” Dean was pointing to her temple.  Delilah reached up and again felt the flaking dried blood on the side of her head.

“The girl knocked me out cold when I got here.  I was giving her a lift, helping out a hitchhiker.” To Delilah, her voice sounded fuzzy and confused.  She tried to shake off her stupor.

“Yeah, I guess you won’t be picking up hitchers again any time soon.  Nice machete work by the way, you do much vampire hunting?”

“Um, no…  Did you just say vampire?” she asked, feeling stunned again.

“Yeah, vampires.  What’s your name?” he continued in his husky voice.

“Um, Delilah.  McAllister,” she answered, still feeling light headed.

Just then the other man came back into the room and addressed Dean.

“All clear.  Looks like we got all of them.”

“Good.  I’ll get started on the bonfire then.  Why don’t you give Delilah the speech there and we can blow this popsicle stand.”  He bent down and grabbed one of the heads by the hair and tossed it into a corner.  Delilah’s eyes widened as a fresh wave of horror swept through her and tinkled coldly down her spine.

She felt a large warm hand on her shoulder and back turn her away from Dean’s gruesome work and pull her into the other room.  The giant called Sam proceeded to turn Delilah’s world upside down and inside out.  She listened as he told her about Dean and him, they were brothers, and how they hunted supernatural creatures, things like vampires and werewolves and so many other things from myth that turned out to be real.  Delilah did not say much.  Her mind just kept running through all the novels she’d read and she tried to reconcile the romantic image of her favourite vampires with the headless creatures in the other room.  Then, something clicked in place in her head and everything suddenly seemed clear.  She connected together folklore she had studied in college along with some of the stranger things she’d been reading about in the papers lately.  The whole world shifted back into place and she whispered to herself, “It all makes so much sense now.”

Sam looked at her, frowning, “What makes sense?”

Delilah looked up at the man in front of her.  Now that the adrenaline had stopped pumping, she saw him more clearly.  He was tall, towering over her 5’4” with broad, muscular shoulders, although he wasn’t threatening - his eyes showed caring and concern even for a stranger he just met.  They were a peculiar shade of dark grey and green and she wondered if the dim lighting was to blame.  He had floppy brown hair half falling into his face and he kept tucking strands back behind his ears as he was talking to her.  He was still looking at her questioningly and Delilah realized she had been staring at him for a full minute without talking.

“Oh, uh, nothing. I was just thinking out loud.  Do you think I could go home now?”  Just then, Dean came marching out of the other room wiping his hands on his jeans and slipping what looked like a Zippo lighter into his front pocket.  He tossed a bottle of lighter fluid into an open duffel bag she hadn’t noticed by the front door.

“Well, I wouldn’t stay here too long, that’s for sure,” he said cheerfully, “This place is about to go up like matchsticks,” he nodded towards her, “Are you good to drive?”

“I think so, I feel fine,” she answered, just wanting to get away from the growing light in the other room.

She headed out the door and onto the front porch.  She missed her footing on the top step and started to fall towards the gravel when a strong hand caught her arm and held her up long enough to find her footing again.  Delilah looked up at Dean, he had a smug, taunting smile on his face as she leaned on him to straighten up.  He reversed her grip on his arm and started walking her out onto the overgrown driveway, Sam close behind.

“Yup, thought so.  You have a concussion.  You’re not driving anywhere.  We’ll take you home, Sammy can follow with your car,” Delilah wanted to smack the bossy smirk off his bossy face, but she settled for glaring instead.  She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and just saw Sam rolling his eyes and shaking his head silently.

The flames in the house behind them were quickly growing, licking at the dry wood.  Delilah glanced back once, then continued towards the two parked cars.

The one closest to the house was her own beat up, but still kicking, red Tercel, she had affectionately named _Rust Bucket_. A little further down the driveway, there was a gorgeous classic Impala, melting into the nighttime darkness, barely gleaming in the faint moonlight.  Dean let go of Delilah’s arm and opened the passenger door for her.  She ran her hand along the sleek hood and the frame of the door, reverently feeling the car’s angled curves.  She glanced at Dean as she slid into the passenger side of the front bench seat and caught him watching her with a strange look in his eyes, like he couldn't quite figure her out.  She tied her seatbelt as he shut the door and made his way around to the driver’s side.

She watched Sam through the windshield awkwardly folding himself into her car and could almost hear him swearing a blue streak at the confined space.  Dean sat down beside her, shut the door and started the engine in the fluid motion of someone who’s been driving the same car for so long, it’s practically a part of them.  He stretched his right arm along the back of the bench, looked out the back window and reversed onto the dark, narrow road.

After giving him quick instructions on how to get her home to Auburn, and checking behind to see that Sam was following them with her car, Delilah lapsed into quiet contemplation of the situation she found herself in and the slew of new information foisted onto her that night.  Dean was listening to classic rock on the radio and looked like he hardly cared if she talked or not.

Try as she might to find another explanation for what she saw inside that house, she could not link it with anything other than the word vampire.  And what about other creatures?  Sam had mentioned werewolves too; could it be that everything was real?  Suddenly, it was harder to see the exaggerated folklore she read as part of one of her history classes as simply tall tales to teach children how to behave in society.  What if folklore was in fact oral history passed down through the centuries as guides to supernatural creatures, much like the native american tales?

Delilah’s musings came to an abrupt stop as the familiar notes of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Simple Man started playing.  She was further distracted by Dean tapping away on the steering wheel and humming along to parts of the song.  How eerie that this adventure should end the way it began.  As he continued his slightly off-key humming, Delilah found herself really looking at the man driving her home.

He was staring straight out, hands resting casually on the steering wheel as he cruised down the straight road.  His face was relaxed and the corner of his lips was slightly turned up in a smile.  He had crinkle lines around his eyes and though she couldn’t see it clearly at the moment, she remembered how the green irises had sent shivers through her body back at the house.  His arms were muscular too, she could see the shape of them even under his blue jacket.  Through his open jacket she could just see his flat stomach, covered by a black t-shirt.  She was just looking down at his long legs when the sound of him filled her ears again.

“You liking what you see there ‘Lilah?” he asked, his husky voice breaking the silence.  He turned his head towards her a full smile lighting up his face showing a flash of pearly-white teeth, then he turned back to watch the road as she blushed to the roots of her hair. She was glad the inside of the car was dark.  She turned her stare back to the dashboard feeling embarrassed that she was caught staring.  She felt like a teenager in high school again regardless of her thirty years.  What was wrong with her?

People in general always kind of made her nervous, especially in large groups, but the effect Dean had on her was like nothing she had experienced before.  He made her want to run and hide, but also she found herself wanting to get closer, she wanted him to know her.  She wanted him to like her, and she had no idea how to make that happen.  She spent the rest of the ride looking out the side window as at first the trees, and then the houses and apartment complexes of the small town where she lived scrolled by.

Dean pulled up the Impala to the curb outside her building on Hanover St and they got out.  Sam was right behind them and she showed him where to park.  Sam climbed out of the car and came to join Dean and her by the Impala, handing her back her keys.  Dean was casually leaning against the back passenger door.  Delilah looked at the brothers for a moment before making up her mind…  You can offer the people who saved you from monsters a coffee right?  That’s the accepted social norm?  She laughed a little at the idea that society would have an etiquette for monster attacks, then she cleared her throat and stared at Sam’s chin when she talked, it seemed less intimidating than the rest of them.

“Um, so, would you guys like to come up for coffee?” she had no idea if the urge to have them refuse was stronger than the need to have them say yes but the wait was interminable.  Finally, after glancing at Dean, Sam responded,

“Sure, coffee would be good.  We have a bit of a drive ahead of us tonight.  Dean?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, why not?”

Delilah turned around and started jiggling out the front door key, hoping to God she did have coffee now that she had offered it.  The trip up the stairs and into her apartment seemed to take forever, but once inside she went straight to the kitchen and sighed in relief when she found some coffee in a plastic bin in her cupboard.  She called out to them, “Coffee will be ready in five, make yourselves at home,” then she added quietly to herself, “What are you doing D?  Shit shit shit shit shit…”

Delilah leaned back on the counter and tried to steady her breathing.  In the middle of her pep talk, Dean strolled in from around the corner.  He had removed his jacket and she could see he was wearing an open plaid flannel shirt over his black t-shirt.  The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows showing off tan skin, muscles and a few faded cuts.

“Need any help in here?” he asked her.

“Nope, all good.  Coffee is pretty much a one-person job,” she face-palmed herself in her head, _stop being stupid!_ Dean shrugged and disappeared around the corner again.

When the coffee was ready she grabbed a couple cups, filled them up and brought them out to the men in her living room.  Sam was standing by her book case looking at one of her books and Dean was sitting back on the couch, eyes closed, head leaning back, arms along the back rest.  Delilah cleared her throat before talking. “Do you guys need milk or sugar?”

Dean opened his eyes and straightened up, “Nope! Just the coffee, thanks.”

“Same for me,” said Sam.

She handed Dean the first cup and she walked over to Sam with the second.  She peeked around him to see what he was holding.  It was her compilation of European myths and legends she had bought for one of her history classes, she was surprised Sam looked so engrossed with it.  She was also a little worried that with her bookshelves full of an assortment of literature, she was coming off as a bit book-wormy.

“I read that for school.  _Myths and Legends of the Old World_.  Part of my specialization when I did my history degree.”  Sam looked at her, interested.

“You studied history?  I was pre-law at Stanford.” Delilah looked at him surprised.

“I actually did a double major, history and languages at Kansas U,” she told him.

“Which languages did you study?”

“Mostly useless ones,” she answered laughing a little, people always made fun of her at this point, “I studied, Latin and Ancient Greek mostly, but I touched on a bunch of dead languages through some of my history classes.  I have a fondness for the old myths, I even took an elective on the history of witchcraft.”

Delilah stopped talking when Sam looked sharply over her shoulder at Dean.  Delilah turned around and watched them exchange a silent look.  Then, Dean threw back his coffee, put down the cup on the table and stood up from the couch.  He walked over to where they were standing without crowding the space, but Delilah still felt squeezed between two mountains.  Dean was shorter than his brother but still much taller than her.  She was getting a crick in her neck from looking up at them.

“Well, sorry to cut this geekfest short, but before you get my brother all excited, we’re gonna have to hit the road.” Sam gave Dean a sarcastic look in the age old tradition of sibling baiting, but put the book back in its place on the shelf.

“It was nice to meet you Delilah, thanks for the coffee,” said Sam.

He started walking towards the door while Dean threw his jacket on.  Sam opened the door and walked through and started down the balcony.  Dean put his hand on the door and looked back to where Delilah was standing.

“Try and keep clear of vampires in the future, it’s the best way to avoid trouble.  Wouldn’t want to have to come back again and save you.”

For some reason his words made her blood boil and she snapped out of her shyness long enough to walk over to the door, look him right in the eyes and say:

“As I recall it, I was the one who saved you, so maybe you’re the one who should stay clear of trouble, not me.  Goodnight Dean Winchester.”

And Delilah pushed the door closed and locked it.  She leaned her head against the cool painted wood and took deep breaths trying to calm down.  She could still hear them faintly as they walked along the balcony.

“God Dean, would it kill you to be nice sometimes?” Sam said.

“Sorry for cock blocking the geekgasm back there but we gotta get back to the bunker,” Dean responded.

“You’re such a jerk,” Sam sighed.

“Bitch,” Dean replied.

Delilah couldn’t hear them any more after that.  She walked down the hall to her bedroom, shut the door and collapsed onto her bed for the night, passing out from complete exhaustion and emotional draining.

 

The next morning, she woke up feeling refreshed even though she had managed to fall asleep fully clothed and half sticking out of the bed.  The sun was shining in through the slanted blinds and she found herself singing Simple Man as she moved to the washroom to shower.

She could have completely written off the previous night’s excitement as a crazy dream if not for the undeniable proof all around her.  First, there was the bruise on the side of her head when she washed her hair, then, the coffee cups still resting on the table in the living room, and the spilled coffee grinds on the kitchen counter, and last of all, the driver’s seat in her Tercel was jacked all the way back as far as it would go when she dropped into it to go to work.

Vampires, werewolves and two men called Winchester… Regardless that she was convinced she would never see them again, she could not deny that life would never be the same.


End file.
